Awaking. Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast! Ay me, for pity! what a dream was here! Lysander, look how I do quake with fear: Methought a serpent eat my heart away, And you sat smiling at his cruel prey. Lysander! what, removed? Lysander! lord! What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, no word? Alack, where are you? speak, and if you hear; Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear. No? then I well perceive you are not nigh: Either death or you I’ll find immediately. Exit.